


Nine to Five

by Star_dancer54



Series: Dear god old stuff. Like, seriously old. [57]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Wee!fic, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-27
Updated: 2007-07-27
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_dancer54/pseuds/Star_dancer54
Summary: Dean was tired, real tired, but he couldn’t take a nap.





	Nine to Five

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the mistakes are on purpose – this is being told from the point of view of a nine, ten year old, and they don’t have the best grasp on the English language. Also, I want to thank [](https://deathangelgw.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://deathangelgw.livejournal.com/)**deathangelgw** , blessed is she among betas.

Dean was tired, real tired, but he couldn’t take a nap. Sammy was sick and was making unhealthy wheezing noises that sounded like they hurt when he breathed, so Dean had to make sure that Sammy was taken care of, since Daddy was gone on a hunting trip.

“Take care of your brother, Dean,” his Daddy’d said while looking down at him from so high up. Dean always thought that Daddy was the tallest person in the whole wide world, and that there was no way that Dean himself would ever be so tall, but that was okay.

Dean promised Daddy he’d keep an eye on Sammy, but as he’d watched his brother he saw Sammy get paler as he started coughing and sneezing and sniffling, and he knew that wasn’t good at all. So he decided to leave the room, even though he knew Daddy wouldn’t be happy at ALL about that, and try to find some help.

He didn’t want him and Sammy to get taken from Daddy, so when he asked the nice old lady behind the motel’s desk what he should do he said that it was his Daddy who was sick, and that he was worried Sammy’d get whatever it was too, since he was so little and little kids got sick from everything. The old lady asked him what the symptoms were but he didn’t know what that meant, so she explained that she was asking what was wrong with them. Were they coughing and did they feel hot? Dean didn’t know, so he went back to check.

Sammy felt a little warm, but Dean couldn’t tell if that was normal so he went back to the desk and asked how to check. She asked him if they had a thermometer, and Dean said he didn’t know what that was, so she told him to hold on a minute and she went into another room. She came back with a little glass thing that looked familiar, and Dean said yeah, he thought that they had one of those in their First Aid kit. She told him to check it by putting under his tongue, but to wash it off right after checking it so no one else would get sick from it. He nodded and said he’d make sure to clean it, then asked where the red line would be if his Daddy was sick. She used her own thermometer as an example, and told him if it went over that mark that he needed to get some cold compresses and put them on his Daddy’s forehead so that when he checked it next time his Daddy’d be cooler.

Dean thanked the nice lady, and she smiled and called him a sweetie. He started to leave again, but the lady called him back and suggested something warm to drink. That would probably help with the coughing, and soothe Daddy’s throat. He thanked her, then went back to the room, to Sammy.

Sammy was whining softly on the bed that he and Dean shared, tossing a little and shivering. “Dean, ‘m _cold_.”

Dean talked to him, told him it was okay, he was just going to check his temperature. Sam whined a bit more, but let Dean put the metal tip under his tongue and kept it there for a while. He watched as the red line climbed, but it went up to a bit below where the lady’d said he needed to get cold rags. He was relieved.

He washed the thermometer off like the lady told him to, and looked around the room for something to heat some milk or something in. There wasn’t anything; Daddy’d taken the hotplate because he didn’t want Dean using it himself, even though he knew how to, and there wasn’t a stove or microwave anywhere.

He dug around in his duffel for the money Daddy’d given him and counted it. He didn’t know how much he’d need for a warm drink, so he pocketed all of it and pulled on a jacket. He kissed Sammy’s forehead and told him he’d be right back, then he left the room and locked the door behind him.

He looked around the place, hoping to find the mom ‘n pop restaurant open, but it was closed and dark. It was only then that he realized how late it was. He pulled his jacket close and kept looking.

He saw a lit-up building a block or so away. He headed in that direction. When he got to the front doors, he looked in and saw that it was a place he didn’t think he’d ever been in before. The booths were yellow plastic and looked uncomfortable, but there were two nice-looking ladies behind the counter, so maybe they could help him.

He tried to open the door. It was heavy, but after some effort he got it opened. A bell on the door clanged real loud, suprising Dean.

The ladies glanced up. One frowned at him, and the other smiled a welcome. “Hey sweetie. You looking for somethin’ in particular?” Yeah, one of the ladies was nice.

Dean went up to the counter and tried to peer over it, standing on his tippy toes. After trying for a few seconds, he settled back. “Do you have anything hot to drink?”

The lady that frowned at him frowned harder. “No, we don’t.”

“Oh.” Dean looked down. He didn’t know what else to say.

The nicer lady spoke up, looking at the frowning lady. “Hey, Claire? Have you emptied out the tea dispenser?” At the lady – Claire’s shake of her head, the nicer lady smiled at Dean. “How about you get some tea, and we’ll heat some up back here? Will that work?”

Dean looked up and smiled hopefully. “That might help Sammy feel better.”

“Who’s Sammy?” The nicer lady was coming around from behind the counter, taking one of the smaller paper cups from the counter. “You want me to help you, or can you get the tea yourself?”

“Sammy’s my little brother, and I can get it myself, thank you.” Dean didn’t need any help – he could get anything himself.

“Ah. I’ve got a little sister, myself. She just turned twelve last month.” She continued walk towards the drinks dispenser. “What if I gave you a boost so you can reach the tea? Would that work?”

Dean thought. He nodded. “Okay.” Maybe a little help wouldn’t be bad. He allowed the lady to pick him up and took the cup from her. He then stared at all the different flavors and wondered which one was the tea.

The lady smiled and pointed at one, and he nodded his thanks as he pressed the cup against the dispenser’s pouring thing. Brown water came out, and Dean eyed it suspiciously. It looked like the stuff that came out of the kitchen faucet sometimes. When the cup was almost full, he pulled it to his face to sniff it.

“This is tea?” he asked dubiously.

The lady laughed. “Yeah, that’s tea. How about you hand that over to Claire and she’ll heat it up some for your brother?”

“Okay…” Dean wasn’t entirely sure that that Claire lady wouldn’t poison them, but if the nice lady was so sure…

The nice lady carried Dean and the cup to the counter, and Dean handed the cup to Claire. Claire took it and went to the back, and Dean heard the familiar sounds of a microwave’s buttons being pushed and the hum as the microwave started to work. He shifted in the lady’s hold and she let him down with a smile. “It won’t take very long for it to heat up, and then once it’s ready you take it to your brother quick, okay? It doesn’t stay warm for long.”

“’Kay,” Dean agreed while peering around for something to keep him busy. “Is there a bathroom here?” The lady pointed at a door in a corner and he had to stop himself from running into there to hide, even though he really should be watching to see if the other lady did anything weird to Sammy’s drink. He peed, washed his hands, and then came out after checking to see if there was anyone else out in the main part. There wasn’t anyone out there, not even the nice lady, but before he started to freak a door close to the bathroom opened and the not-as-nice lady came out.

“I heated it up more than you need it, so when you get to your brother it’ll still be warm. Do you want to add more sugar, or will this work?”

Sugar was good. “Can I have some more please?”

The woman nodded and got some packets of sugar from near the drink fountain. She then wrapped some napkins around the cup and handed it over. “Be careful, it’s hot. I hope your brother feels better.”

Dean blinked, then dug in his pocket with his free hand. “Money? How much does it cost?”

The not-as-nice lady laughed a little. Dean thought she kind-of looked like Mommy. “Just a smile, munchkin. You look like you’re really worried about your brother, but you don’t want your face to freeze in that frown.”

Dean was confused, but he smiled nonetheless. He tucked the money and the sugar packets into his pocket and shifted the hot cup to his other hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go on home.”

Dean left the restaurant with a little wave and almost started running back to the motel before he remembered the hot drink. He didn’t want to spill it, so he just walked as fast as he could.

Sammy was awake and whining when he got back to the room, and Dean had to put the tea down on the desk by the TV before he could lock the door, which he didn’t like but oh well. He opened the cup and sniffed. It still smelled kinda bad, but so did most medicines. He took a sip, then almost spat it out. “Gross!”

He added sugar, then took another sip. Still gross, but not as gross, so that should count for something. The tea was cooling so he made Sammy sit up to drink it before it went all the way cold.

“Drink up – it’s gonna help your throat.”

Sammy took a sip, then smiled happily. “It’s yummy.”

Dean squinted at his brother. “You’re crazy.”

“’m not, _you’re_ crazy.” Sammy sucked down most of it within the time it took for Dean to check the salt and make sure that nothing had been disturbed while he was gone. Everything was fine, so Dean changed into one of Dad’s big shirts and slid into bed with Sammy. Sammy smiled and snuggled close, still drinking that nasty tea. “I feel better already.”

“Good.”

“I feel so much better, you can read to me and I’ll pay ‘tention.”

Dean sighed and dug around for a nearby comic. “In the city of Gotham-“


End file.
